Cans of Worms

by Louis IX

You end up in an endless corridor with numbered doors. Most of them lead to another version of Earth Bet, where the nexus that is Taylor Hebert experiences life differently - sometimes very badly. Others reflect upon other characters.

79. Bear With Me

CANS OF WORMS
by Louis IX

Check first chapter for disclaimer and global warnings. Additional warnings for violence, gore, drugs, and character death. I don't own anything you might recognize as belonging to another entity.

Bear With Me

George Hebert had been a man with "a temper" – a polite way to say that he was quick to blow a fuse when angered. In his time, as had been the case for the generations prior, having "a temper" was a sign of strength. People would be wary to come across people with such a temper. Women of that time would even find the show of strength virile and a sign that said partner would be an appropriate protector for their would-be family. However, as the whole world became more and more civilized, there was less and less need for antagonistic behavioural patterns… and those with "a temper" found themselves unable to keep jobs. And families.

Daniel Hebert was a man with a temper. He had been on the receiving end of his father's, when he had been misbehaving as a kid. As such, he considered it as normal – misbehave and you get punished. However, during his lifetime, the perception of things shifted. And as the millennium of his birth gave way to another, the perception of having "a temper" became associated with bad behaviour. Thankfully, he had a place where he could purge his frustrations: the basement, where he had hung a bag of sand.

Taylor Hebert was a girl with a temper. Who wouldn't, in her position? Having just spent a year and a half as the target of a sustained bullying campaign, she was ready to snap. Like a cooker with too much pressure. Why? Because she had no safety valve, no way to express herself.

She had never seen her parents argue, and had been raised with the idea that shouting in the house is bad. She had seen the punching bag downstairs, but thought that her father was doing boxing as a sport – and he himself told her so, rather than admitting to using the bag to douse his temper. In negating that reality, he unknowingly limited her options.

After enough bullying, some of the victims lose all will to even live, and take the ultimate path to get out of that life. Taylor knew, though, and quite viscerally, that doing that after her mother died would push her father down the same path. She couldn't. There would be no cutting for her, of wrists or other body parts, and no self-destructive behaviour either, whether involving booze or drugs, legal or not. Besides, she didn't have money for it – even regular food was scarce, at home.

She had thought that the Christmas break would allow her anger to abate, the same way her summer vacation had allowed her to mellow from the previous year. Unfortunately, it had been the opposite: her father was angry about something happening at his job, and any interaction was so negatively tinted that she took refuge in her bedroom… where she couldn't think of anything positive.

That first day of school, she left her house quickly, hoping to get to school before the bullies. Despite this, she knew it was not going to be so easy.

Innocently enough, it started during the bus ride, when Greg Veder, of all people, sat beside her. "Hi Taylor!" he announced with a big smile.

She knew he liked her. She also knew that he couldn't take the hints that she didn't. Even when clubbing him with them. "Go away, I don't want to see you."

"But I want to see you." he said, crystalizing Taylor's thought that he had had some assertiveness trained into him over the break. Or he had read online manuals with titles like "how to get a girlfriends… for dummies" – or, more probably, watched videos like that. In the verbal diarrhoea that ensued, proof that Greg hasn't lost his touch with runaway sentences, she got a confirmation about both. She also learned that, yes, he had stalked her out of school, and that he found it poetic. In fact, she heard about every little thing, and habit, the boy had and did over the break – including a not inconsiderable time playing video games. He even thought she had never heard of them because he took the time to detail every little mechanism and rule and success he had gotten.

She wanted him to shut up and leave her alone, but despite her numerous attempts at telling him so, even changing seats, weren't enough to actually achieve that lofty aim.

It led to her being quite angry when she walked towards the school, trying to evade an oblivious Greg's attempts at grabbing her hand – for him, the fact that she had religiously listened to him (one can dream) was a clear indication of a shared interest, and he was ready to jump into a relationship… where none was.

They were early, but not so early that the school was closed – besides, the outside locks didn't work. A few students milled around already. And Taylor noticed one of them, usually coming later than this, as said person hurried away from her. It was Madison, and she had no doubt that she was hustling to warn the other bullies about her presence.

Emma herself walked out a few seconds later, in a sedate manner. She didn't have to say much, as her smirk was enough to stoke her anger further. Especially when she noticed the boy trying to get Taylor's attention.

Sophia was further away still, leaning against the wall in a casual pose that still managed to convey menace. Especially when she glowered in her direction.

All three girls took step behind her as she walked by, exchanging hushed words, as well as more than a few giggles when Greg was making a nuisance of himself. Again. The clueless nerd was rehashing his video games, again!

And then Taylor reached the remote corridor where her locker was situated. Her relation with school stuff was… complicated. Whether she put them in her bag or her locker, things tended to disappear, or become sullied, or both. She still wasn't over the disappearance of her mother's flute. She had asked for a new locker several times, when it was too damaged to continue to serve its purpose. The last iteration was in that remote place, and she was sure Emma had had a hand in that choice. Why? Because her smile became truly vicious.

It reeked.

Not the smile, no. Unless you mean metaphorically.

The area around Taylor's locker was smelling like shit had been used to fill the piece of furniture. And it probably had.

Taylor knew that going to fetch the principal right now would have been the best choice, had the school been a proper school. However, Blackwell had already made it clear that she would believe Emma and Sophia over her, again and again. She turned on her feet, trying to leave.

"Leaving so soon?" sneered Emma, while Sophia blocked her physically.

She didn't answer. She couldn't, as her jaws were clamped so strongly her teeth were in danger of chipping – the many little bits of anger had added to the ball of rage already roiling in her belly, making it difficult to express herself. And despite her training at resisting their attacks, she already had tears forming.

"Crying, too?" the redhead pounced. "You going to cry for a week straight, and spare us your presence?"

A tooth cracked, she was sure. But she didn't care. If she gained laser eyes, Emma would be fried. Or Sophia, perhaps, because the black girl was quite the "in-the-face" style. With her fists, generally. Such as now. Lips split against teeth, under the force of the blow, and Taylor staggered backwards. Towards the locker, which Madison had graciously opened – proving that she had at least the code allowing the padlock to open.

Taylor tried to defend herself, but Sophia seemed to have had some training in close-quarter combat (something she already knew) because she evaded all her blows, and all of hers struck home. Glasses askew and then shoved away, with blood dripping from nose and chin, the gangly teenager was pushed backwards in the coffin-like enclosure, with everyone around them laughing. And then they slammed the lid. Three times, because the first two, Taylor's hands tried to block it. And Greg hadn't done anything, of course.

Taylor heard the click of the padlock locking the door, even through the laughter. Each voice, each noise, added to the rage she felt. And then she broke.

She shouted.

Not to be freed, not for help.

Finally ignoring the lessons drilled in her by her late mother, she shouted her anger to the world. She was facing the vents, and wasn't lacking in oxygen, and was heard clearly by those around her. Laughter redoubled when the infamous trio heard the poor girl's voice trying to get heard from further away. Or so they thought. The scream of rage wasn't to get assistance, even when it increased in volume, and pitch, and depth.

Taylor's mind had broken. Had it done so before having been shoved in her locker, she would have struck at her bullies, and then at anyone and everyone fool enough to approach. Now that she was constrained, though, she was limited in her options to show her defiance to the world.

Something else broke, then, and it was the girl's voice box. Not being large enough to give way to all of her anger in one go, it stopped working for a few seconds. She felt her rage pushing in all directions at once, then. However, her body was tightly constrained, and the pressure created quite some pain, increasing her anger yet again.

Given the circumstances, the girl's Corona Pollentia deemed the situation extreme enough for its beacon procedure, and engaged it. Barriers between dimensions broke, briefly enough to restore themselves automatically, but long enough to call for the otherworldly powers surrounding them. The shout reverberated strangely, then, as if thousands of sentences and concepts were expressed in a single "word". Or a lengthy ritual in old and dead tongues. Something slithered between dimensions, in return, answering the call of rage. Tendrils of power reached out, some more quickly than others. Those belonged to alien entities which only some people knew about, and fewer yet knew as having some agency – those called them Agents, while the first named them Shards.

For a while, among the tendrils, it looked like that one would reach Taylor first. It was coated in chitin and writhing from the inside, as if filled by insects. However, another one thundered as it sprinted forwards, as if Taylor's scream of rage was its siren's call. Its exterior appearance included many things, such as minerals, earth, bark, fur, water, lightning, and fire. But all those elements rolled and roiled around, while the tendril itself writhed mightily (as if in repressed anger) so much so that it pushed the others off-course. And then, once it had latched on the part of her brain that allowed for power expression, it quickly extracted her last frustrations (including the Trio, of course, but also Greg's whole monologue) and built ideas on how to proceed.

The humans, in general, have no real idea about how they become parahuman. They have posited explanations, including the above competition between Shards. But there is an aspect that they have often witnessed, which is the fact that nearby capes often feel a disconnect when a trigger event occurs. Sometimes, in cases that some had suggested as linked to the strength of the new trigger's power, they even fall unconscious for a while.

As the powers played tag near her, Sophia fell unconscious for a while, dropping like a ragdoll with her strings cut. In one of the adjoining corridors, where stood a group of white people with blond hair and blue eyes (some of them fake), another girl collapsed without reason too. The same happened to a solitary boy, one classroom above, even though he was occupied with drawing complicated machinery.

Taylor's body was not large enough to contain the anger that pushed outwards, and the expression of the power taking hold in her… adapted to the new circumstances: her body increased in size. The clothing became constricting, though, and the Powers That Be chose not to increase its size too or break them, but to subsume the clothes into something natural in the animal domain Taylor belongs to: mammals have body hair. And a perfect representation of a creature with so much anger, while being hairy, is… a bear.

Taylor's shout, despite its short interruption, continued through the transformation. From outside, it was the first warning that something was going to be dreadfully wrong for some people. The voice became less and less human, and more and more savage. Noises came from the locker, like metal being torn, and the whole row shook several times. The doors from the two lockers adjacent from Taylor's opened widely, and large paws emerged, with long and straight claws. They took hold of the one foolish enough not to have run away… unless she was frozen in fear. Madison's spine broke like a twig under the appropriately-named bear hug.

The row shook again and lifted, two paws appearing among the refuse that had filled the locker before. And the top part ended up torn too, right as the bellow of rage became even stronger… due to the ursine head poking through the material.

The Trio, plus Greg, but minus the still-unconscious Sophia, realized that Taylor had triggered into a Changer-type parahuman… and that she was quite angry. Chaotic as Greg's thoughts were, he still realized that the resulting creature was very appropriate to convey anger, especially as he hadn't stopped telling Taylor about it, minutes prior. He still didn't realize that the situation might be his fault, at least partially.

The Changer's new shape was a bear. And not a cuddly teddy bear, no. More like the grizzly version: large, it was, and angry. Very angry. It was also heavy: at seven feet and seven hundred pounds, the form was intimidating enough to quench the laughing… and strong enough for its body to rend the thin metal surrounding it.

And then the creature pushed forwards. Rows of lockers are generally stuck to the wall at given intervals, while being held together. Under the bear's weight, with the addition of its strength, itself enhanced by its apparent rage… the whole row was ripped from the plaster and slammed on the corridor's floor, allowing the beast to fall on all fours

Madison was still there, as she was unable to move. Feet and hips were crushed when the row of lockers started to weigh on her. And when the creature over it started to roll and jump like mad to get rid of whatever sheets of metal were still clinging to it, she was hammered further and further down. Ribs broke, and organs were crushed into paste. She was the first to die.

Strangely enough, upon actually dying, she disappeared completely, fading to nothing alongside the various body fluids leaked on the floor. The sudden emptiness allowed the fallen row of lockers to slam flat on the floor. The bear stepped out of it, not caring where it walked. Or perhaps choosing Sophia's body as a stepping board. She had been awakening slowly, though, and was quick enough to evade the last inches of the crushing stomp done on her throat… by transforming into a cloud of darkness that disappeared into the ground.

Seeing her current best friends die (or disappear, or both) awakened Emma's flight reaction, and she started to run away.

Meanwhile, Greg was still standing in front of Taylor, his mind running miles per minute. Despite the incomprehension at the whole scene, one thing stayed clear: Taylor had been shoved in her locker, and a bear came out. That could only mean one thing for the cape-mad teen, and he knelt in front of the beast. "Beorn…" he could only utter in awe, before the freed beast roared again, mere feet in front of him.

The roar had a presence to it, a tangible quality that made glass panes break and walls shake. Greg was too close not to be affected: every small and fragile part of his body broke, making him bleed from practically everywhere, including his nose, ears, and eyes. And his heart stopped, too, making him die… and disappear as well. A pile of comic books stayed behind, but the bear didn't care.

The loud noise travelled far and wide, through the school. As if the earlier roars hadn't been enough, this one elicited a rapid response from most of the listeners – not all, though, because it is Winslow, and some students are already stoned out of their gourd. Still, they moved, however slower than the rest: the response was hard-wired in every mammal's reptilian cortex, after all, and meant one thing, and one thing only: here's a predator, ready to kill you. Flee.

The morning crowd, already hesitant to come investigate the earlier noise, took the clue as face value and fled the school in a hurry. Those in the process of arriving stopped in their tracks and took a number of steps backwards, especially when facing the crowd rushing out.

In the back of the student body running away out of the school, and thus without the cover of said crowd, was Emma. She hadn't noticed when fleeing the bear, but a swarm of bees had formed between the two, and was currently chasing her, stinging her when she was slowing down – athletic, she was not.

When the throng of people finally exited the building, the swarm found enough space to expand, and it did. Onlookers panicked again, but the cloud of angry bees only descended on the redhead it was already hiding. They were so numerous, covering her whole body, that nobody could identify her. She was then stung by dozens of bees at the same time, adding even more poison into her bloodstream – even if you're not allergic to bees, you can die when stung by a large enough number of them.

She did.

And she disappeared, too, leaving the swarm to disperse. Those who saw this happen supposed that she had just triggered into a Breaker-type parahuman whose secondary shape was a swarm of bees – or, and some would call that hypothetical cape Skitter, one who could direct the bees so finely that they could assemble and look like a human shape.

Close but no cigar. Those bees weren't even wilfully directed by Taylor, as she didn't have the ability to multitask the behaviour of insects in the vicinity, no: she would "just" summon a swarm of angry bees when it would be convenient for her to do so, and give them a target. What they would do after that was entirely natural – still, the swarm didn't live long after said target had been reached, the individual creatures still alive disappearing quickly.

An attack from an angry swarm, especially when it had casualties, could be considered a localized disaster. Being brought forth from nature pushed the envelope towards the expression "natural disaster". And you can say what you want, but an angry bear appearing in the middle of a school is also quite the disaster… for the people there, as well as the school.

That day, Taylor learned that she had gained the ability to inflict natural disasters. That was her power. Due to the many details Greg had given her, and her power source latching on those, the disasters were expressed as active abilities as if she had different powers (the bear, the roar, the swarm). And between Greg's ramblings about "leveling" and her own impressions, she already knew there would more possibilities coming forth in the near future. The disposal of remains was strange, but Taylor didn't think too strongly about that, rather preoccupied as she was to exit the school discreetly.

Once she was alone, unseen and without threat, she transformed back into a human girl – that happened completely independently from her swarm's actions, as those bees were currently in the process of delivering a painful and definitive end to Emma's way of bullying. And to Emma herself, too.

Given that Taylor had been shaken quite badly before being pushed into a vertical coffin already full of disgusting things, she thought that she'd have to clean herself up somewhat. But she was quite surprised to find herself, body and stuff, all hale and healthy. Even her eyesight was slightly better, as if her transformation was healing her, bit by bit.

Her rage abated slightly, as she thought about it, slowly coming to terms with the situation. Later, she would experiment, establish theories, and test them.

For now, her attention was grabbed quickly when a dark shape climbed from the floor behind her, and shot her. A shadowy bolt became solid as it took flight, hitting her thigh. For some reason, despite its pointy head allowing it to stick into her leg, it wasn't doing more than superficial damage. Registering that she was under attack, she whirled around and tried to grab her opponent.

The cloud of shadows that was Shadow Stalker, recently outed as being the cape identity of Sophia Hess, jumped backwards. Not that she risked much from the blow, but crossing through a living person meant meshing her gaseous form with their neural network, and she didn't like touching electricity, at all. So she fled, still sniping her designated foe every time Taylor stopped following her – thankfully for the latter, she was able to protect her head with her arms, even if that meant more irritating bolts stuck in her limbs.

Soon, they were on the roof, and Taylor noticed that Sophia was able to jump quite high, in her Breaker form. And still pepper her with pointy bolts while staying out of melee range. Had Taylor been in Changer shape, she would have looked as a crossbreed between a bear and a porcupine, given the numerous bolts. Even as a human, she was spitting mad. Again.

Once again overwhelmed by rage, she bellowed her defiance to her foe, shaking her fists at her.

And a natural disaster struck again. It started with wind, coming from Sophia's direction towards her, stronger and stronger. For a brief moment, it allowed Sophia to hit better with her bolts, striking Taylor's ribcage and her face. Thankfully, a rib blocked the first (it was painful, but not as deadly as it would have been if it had struck her heart), and the tall girl evaded most of the second, only gaining a lined wound on her cheek. Soon, however, the gale made firing projectiles impracticable.

Despite the air current, Sophia's cloud of shadows wasn't moving much, and Taylor correctly inferred the reason: while Shadow Stalker was incorporeal, she couldn't be affected by the real world. Nothing she could do would touch her. Even her ignoring her many wounds in the hope of punching her (or getting back into an ursine shape to do the same with her claws) wouldn't work.

Anger refuelled at her inability to damage her foe, Taylor screamed again, her rage spiking again. And lightning struck: in a zigzagging line that crossed through Sophia's shadow form, massive amounts of electricity travelled from the clouds (amassed above due to the previous wind) to the earth below. And thunder resounded, swallowing the scream. Sophia disappeared almost instantly, only leaving a fragile-looking hand crossbow that fell and struck the unforgiving concrete of the school's roof. Already damaged by the lightning, the thing exploded in so many small pieces that they got lost among the litter covering the place – cigarette butts, mostly, but not only.

Taylor breathed heavily for a few seconds, before morphing into a bear… and back. She felt that each use took energy from her reserves, but also healed her physical wounds. Said wounds disappeared, the crossbow bolts with them. As she hurried downstairs, she thought back about what had happened. And how she now had another disaster at her fingertips, when sufficiently provoked.

Because, yes, a thunderstorm is a natural disaster. We civilized denizens of the world have lost the visceral fear of lightning that our ancestors had, in their primitive grottoes, but the perfect storm can still destroy anything and everything in its path. As ranged attacks go, it was perhaps lacking in precision, but it was quite effective.

On her way down, Taylor noticed one of Greg's friends, called Sparky. Heavy smoker of marijuana, the teenage boy had already started his day high, and was even now walking towards the corridor leading to her locker, instead of away. She also noticed Greg's comic books strewn on the floor. From what the boy had said, she knew they were quite rare, and could link to him. She grabbed them on her way, before reaching the stoned student, turning him around.

"We have to leave, there's some beast here." she told him, trying to push him. She then realized that she was quite strong (and he was quite uncoordinated) as he started to fall over… and she held him up by the scruff of his vest. Thankfully for her peace of mind, he was quite unperceptive to his environment, something she noticed through several clues, the most immediate being the smell of herb permeating his whole person. As such, she had no compunction in opening his bag (mostly empty) and dump Greg's comics inside. Before closing the bag, she noticed a slim metal box, and remembered it was where the boy "hid" his pre-made joints. "If I have to make it look natural…" she breathed, before taking one, lighting it, and taking a puff – she really intended to act as if she was with him, so that possible investigators wouldn't find it strange that she stayed behind the fleeing crowd.

She was quite surprised at the fact that she didn't cough it right up, though. And that the "medicinal" herb was actually quite quick at calming her… without impairing her intellectual facilities. In a manner inverse to what happened to her on her way to school, each breath saw her rage mellowing and finally abating completely.

Of course, there were some mocking thrown their way when they got out of the school together, in a richly-smelling cloud of their own making. But nothing more than the situation warranted, even when, looking around, Taylor noticed that Emma's usual coterie was around. Still, they were dispersed, and uncoordinated, and didn't do more than sneer at her.

On their way towards the cordon the police had established (they quickly threw the dope away), Taylor noticed the gleam of something metallic on the gravelly ground, where Emma had disappeared. With a tear in her eyes, she recognized her mother's flute, and grabbed it.

It was still clean and whole, making her realize that Emma had only taunted her about its destruction – after all, one must really exert oneself physically, to destroy a piece of metal that size the way that had been described. And Emma wasn't doing physical things. The fact that she had it with her was also, probably, to jibe at her with it a few more times.

Too bad for her, she wasn't there anymore, and Taylor had retrieved her heirloom.

Thinking about the disappearance of her ex-friend and the three others, Taylor made a few leaps of logic. She knew that physics had laws about conserving matter and/or energy, and that making things disappear completely was as improbable as making them appear wholecloth, as both implied an enormous transfer of energy. What she didn't know, yet (and it would require her to read more books and consult a few Thinker friends to finalize her understanding), was that each downed enemy granted her matter that she used automatically, to heal and to make herself stronger. Size, muscles, and density, all those she'd kill by herself would participate in her continued existence. And it was quite useful, especially in the beginning, because Taylor had been a gangly girl, and the bear was perhaps strong and enraged, but it was also running on the fumes of said rage, as it had been practically emaciated. As if it had just been awakened from hibernation.

Once at the police cordon, Taylor smiled innocently and joined the throng of students milling around, while Sparky ignored everything and sat on the curb, already searching for another joint to smoke. The officers didn't seem to care, but it was probably because they had their own preoccupations. Such as investigating the rumour of a wild animal having entered the school – such events do fall in their purview, normally. When they couldn't locate said animal, and found no traces of it anywhere, they concluded that it was a prank, and not parahuman action. They could reproduce both the roar and some of the storm effects with mundane equipment, after all.

The fallen row of lockers fell into "school vandalism", as it wasn't that large, and they reasoned that a mere crowbar could have been used to do so.

The only reason for the PRT to be contacted was when they found Shadow Stalker's outfit under one of the lockers. It was in a space that couldn't normally be reached, unless one could phase through matter. With it was a ream of pointy bolts. Some with blood on them, and fingerprints, both badly wiped away – the prints where Sophia's, and the blood matched unresolved murder cases (murder of gang member is still murder). There would be enough to mount a case for the Ward to be sent to juvenile prison… if she could be found.

But Shadow Stalker wouldn't answer her phone any time soon. Armsmaster took the sequence of events and shook it in every possible direction. His only leads were the claim of a "wild animal roaring" before it happened, and a broken crossbow.

"Perhaps it's Animos." he posited. "He enters, stalks Stalker, Changes, roars, she loses her power, he kills her."

"And eats her?" asked Miss Militia. "And proceeds to clean the place of the resulting blood, before leaving among the students?"

A grimace is his sole response.

"And why would he do this alone? There has been no report about the presence of the Teeth in town."

"They are known to do individual mercenary work, from time to time. Perhaps Stalker angered someone with the means to pay for it to happen. If not recently, perhaps it dates from her vigilante days. She was quite wild, at that time." he mentioned, remembering her capture after having nearly killed a man.

"Should we ask Faultline? Even if she's known not to operate on the Bay, she might have heard something."

He nodded. "You do that. I'll check with the Boston division if they have more insights on the Teeth's movements."

Unfortunately for them, that line of thought led nowhere.

Some people argued that the killing of a Ward necessitated immediate action, but others responded that Shadow Stalker had been a vigilante before, that she hadn't liked her current arrangements, and that she might have moved elsewhere and rebranded.

She had made no friend in the PRT, and her case was only given the customary attention before being dropped as "just another runaway teenage girl" – those are quite common, even on Earth Bet. Perhaps even more so.

Even "model students" like Emma Barnes are known to do it. Said girl had done it, even, earlier. With Sophia Hess, even. That added to the investigation and cemented the police conclusion that the three girls (including Madison) had skipped town entirely.

As a lawyer, even with his specialization in divorce cases, Alan Barnes had some leeway in his interactions with the police. That's the only reason for which the investigation ran six months instead of six days. And even then, he rejected the official explanation and started to scour the town for a culprit, asking questions left and right.

In a town like Brockton Bay, such an attitude gets you the attention of the gangs, sooner or later. The Empire did nothing much, but the two others…

He came home one day with a broken arm and a black eye, courtesy of the Asian gang. When he tried to ask the Merchants, he disappeared too, only to be found dead and dispossessed of everything he had on him.

As for Greg, he was lost as a statistical number – when someone disappears, the attention they get depends on their appearance, for some obscure reason.

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Six Months Later

It had taken quite some time, but the situation stabilized.

Taylor's anger having decreased after her trigger event, she seldom felt enraged enough, now, to switch states involuntarily. It was helped by the fact that her bullies had disappeared, as had Greg. She felt guilt, too, but realized that they could only blame themselves: one does not poke the bear repeatedly, lest it eats you. And she didn't care about the faked reality in which victims never took the blame for things they instigated.

She was also helped, in keeping her calm, by two things.

First was her intermittent use of "medicinal herbs", smoked or taken otherwise (she found them quite good in tea and cookies). And when she got home, to hide her scent, she found herself a back alley or two to transform into a bear and back. If that alley held a mugging too, it then fell upon the bear's wide shoulders to put an end to it.

Second was the bear's natural instincts, bleeding over hers. Those included eating, sleeping, and eating more. Bears have very few natural predators, after all. Besides, natural disasters seldom occurred too closely to each other, as if Mother Nature had to intersperse her bouts of anger with sleep… and food.

Now, six month after her trigger, Taylor smiled… and burped. She waved her hand in the air and then laughed at her father's indignant expression. The two of them were at home, eating waffles Taylor had made. Danny was still amazed at the changes that had occurred in his daughter, and wondered, not for the first time, whether they had been sudden or gradual. And in the latter case, if he should work less so that he could notice them.

He didn't know that most of the changes he thought had been gradual and only hidden by his blindness… had actually happened overnight. Or, rather, over the few hours of daytime, that winter, when Taylor had returned to school after Christmas break.

After the event, she had spent a month reflecting about the situation. Despite having killed several persons with parahuman powers, she didn't want to go to the parahuman prison. She had looked at websites about powers, and feared being forced by her new instincts to rampage through her school the following day, or week.

But nothing happened. It was as if her power, like her, was content with its lot. Like a well-fed bear, it could hibernate to its heart's content. Taylor didn't hibernate, though, only developing a way of sleeping that slightly scared her father, as it was quite deep. She didn't even breathe that much.

And she cooked, now. More than before, that is. She was also partial to fish (especially trout and salmon)… and honey. Not together, of course – although he didn't know that she had tried, and liked it, and continued her unholy snacks everyday.

Hence the waffles, to have an excuse for the ungodly amount of honey she wanted to eat. She didn't cook them everyday, of course: on alternate days, she would do pancakes… or try her hand at other cakes, all in order to consume the ambrosia that was produced by bees. In fact, she did so so often that bees and wasps ended up attracted inside the house, and were now common visitors. Strangely (or not, if you think about it), that didn't bother Taylor. Not only did the girl have quite a thick skin, now, but the insects seemed almost reluctant to approach her.

That aspect of her was included in the worries her father had for her: her physical appearance. Compared to what she was six months ago (a tall twig, one could say), she had filled her shape and was now slightly overweight. But he knew that it wasn't all fat tissue, or he would have pushed for some regime or exercises. She didn't exercise much, or at all, but he had remarked that she had quite a physical strength, now, and the weight to apply it.

Taylor had mentioned wanting to take some lessons in martial arts, especially Kung fu (not only to imagine martial arts stance linked to animals, and her own, but also for the meditation techniques some schools offered), but they didn't have much money – especially if she wanted to eat quality fish everyday. That's why she had, instead, started working at a local eatery, making… waffles. And pancakes. Again. And eating some of them, during low times. Still, she was pleasant enough and paid them fair and square, so the manager didn't fire her. The additional income helped for the house, and she would start her Kung fu lessons that very September, right as school started again.

Taylor now had a cell phone, as did her father, so that they could stay in touch despite their irregular job hours. She also had data connectivity on it, so that she could stay online and informed on what happened in her city. And discuss with her new friends – she didn't have old friends, not anymore.

She had heard Greg, right as she killed him (she winced), and learned about Beorn, about the Lord of the Rings, and everything around that story. Including online games. Surprisingly, she could feel her power humming along, when she played… a Beorning, of course.

That's where she made a few additional friends. Being stuck in a lackadaisical mindset by the power now suffusing her mind and body, and not having the constant presence of Emma and Sophia hounding her, she was quite easy-going and had several friends and many friendly acquaintances.

And the rare times she was picked upon, her stance and glare conveyed enough menace that people backed away before pushing her into true anger. She didn't want that. She actually feared it, at times.

When it was time to choose a Kung fu school, she had quite a number of options, depending on what she wanted out of them. Some were all for the official competitions, others for the traditional stances. What she wanted was one where she would learn self-control. As Roosevelt had once said, repeating an African maxim: "walk softly and carry a big stick". She wanted to stay dangerous, but didn't like the uncontrolled lethality when she would eventually let herself go. So, in her mind, she needed the activity to stay sharp and strong, yes, but mostly to keep herself in control of herself.

Her resolve would be tested, then, several times.

Among the places teaching the arts, few included that philosophy, as most of them wanted their students to compete, and gain medals, or honour, or something.

Taylor ended up following an old master in a Guan (Chinese dojo) located deep in ABB territory. Since both the master and apprentices had jobs elsewhere, the courses only happened in the evening, ending quite late at night.

It didn't bother her. Once again, her power spirit made her confident, to the limit of being overconfident. In truth, she was attacked, several times, as she walked back home, the first nights. And that's when she tested her limits.

Having learned words in Chinese so as to learn the Gung fu and its traditions faster (as well as the equivalents in Japanese if it was needed and for comparisons), Taylor was able to understand some of the things said to her in those attacks. She then learned words to use to warn them not to anger her or her guardian spirit.

When the never-do-wells chose to become physical, she trounced them. All the while keeping her self-control. The beast inside her growled but realized that she wasn't really at risk and didn't get out.

When they used weapons, she made use of the first lessons she had learned to disarm them… and trounced them, again.

When they came with guns, she mocked their lack of honour, moved quickly and seemingly at random around the battlefield to disarm them again, and then trounced them a third time.

When they came with a cape, she realized that the time had come for her to start her hero career – she clearly didn't see herself as a villain.

But, then, Oni Lee took a look at her, nodded at her stance, and cuffed the one who had called him there. "Have you no honour to call the Oni on a single girl? If you are too feeble to subdue her by yourself, perhaps the Oni will dispose of you? Or let her show you her displeasure and then dispose of you herself?"

"But… Oni…"

"No more useless words, or the Oni will dispose of your useless throat." Oni Lee threatened, a sharp blade already drawing a thin red line on the man's jugular from the man's other side (and the one who had talked crumbled to ash). The gangster nodded frantically without moving his neck, too afraid to die.

Oni Lee observed her for a few seconds, and she was sure he was going to say something momentous, but his phone ringed and his stoic demeanour became normal for a second, expressing exasperation. In the rapid-fire Japanese that ensued, Taylor only recognized one word, and it was because it wasn't Japanese at all: Undersiders. The name of one of the smaller gangs in Brockton Bay.

Oni Lee hung up and nodded at her. She nodded back, but he was already disintegrating into a shapeless mound of white ash, his real self having teleported somewhere else.

Taylor didn't want to follow him. She didn't know where he was going. She didn't know where he would go afterwards, when pursuing the Undersiders. Still, she found herself curious: here was her first meeting of a parahuman and she wanted to see the fight. To see it with her own eyes, and without media-inspired cuts and explanations. She wanted some sort of truth, to see if her intention of not doing waves was the good one.

In the end, the fight came to her. Oni Lee wasn't there, but his nominal superior was. And, already pumped up to a shape with wings, Lungs could follow the fleeing group of thieves all night long if he wanted – with the enlarged dogs, they were quite conspicuous.

"I will kill you!" the dragon said – or, at least, that's what he clearly intended to say. Taylor wondered, for a few seconds, if what she read on PHO, about the Unwritten Rules, was just a bunch of suggestions for the weaker capes, because Lung really seemed to want to burn the four capes to ashes. And their dogs. Not that she could say anything, since she had killed, too. However, if what she read was true, she had the excuse of her trigger event. What excuse did gang leaders have?

Seeing the monster on fire made her angry, and, unlike her previous meetings with his gang members, she knew that she wouldn't survive if she stayed as she was. So she allowed her power to stoke her anger until it was able to express itself physically. And the bear returned roaring its defiance to the world.

It went unheard, save for Grue, because the villain had created a wall of darkness between Lung and them, hiding their next turn, and she was right in the darkened volume.

The Undersiders were unlucky in that the turn they had wanted to take was intercepted by one of the fireballs thrown randomly by Lung, through the dark wall. One of their mounts took the brunt of it, throwing its passenger to the ground – it was Hellhound, a stocky girl with a dog mask. After shaking her head to clear it, the girl hurried back towards the charred mass and immediately tried to open it, knowing that the original animal was relatively safe inside.

In the meantime, Lung had jumped through the wall of darkness, only to collide with the large animal walking blindly inside it, throwing it back towards the Undersiders.

Seeing a flaming bear sliding on the pavement towards them, before standing up against the encroaching dragon, Hellhound realized something immediately and released her power. And the animal started to grow, like her dogs often did. But while her dogs started as normal dogs and ended as mounts that could rival with cars, in size, a car-sized bear ended up as large as a dinosaur.

Taylor was already big, the form mimicking the largest known bear species, known as the Kodiak bear, from Alaska. Larger than the grizzlies, too: even if, as a female, her form was smaller, it was still three meters tall (more than nine feet) when standing. That was thanks to those she had killed, before.

And that was the shape that shifted and distorted, and grew, until what appeared in Lung's face was a nightmare of muscle, bone… and a fur so thick that you could very well imagine two layers of it (or more), like what the polar bears wear. It was even white.

Why? How? Apparently, miss dog-mask can empower bears just as much as the dogs she usually uses – Taylor knew, thanks to her various researches about her form, that bears and dogs do have a common ancestor, called hemicyon. Perhaps that was what Hellhound's power targeted. Or perhaps she could do all animals but had a net preference for dogs. Anyways, when it happened, Taylor's power guided Rachel's into creating something that resembled a power armour made of flesh, bone, and fur, all three strong enough to face Lung..

Thankfully, being stuck inside such an armour didn't hinder her, quite the opposite. And she fought Lung, using not only the newfound strength she now had, but also every trick her human mind had mastered already. And when the dragon issued fire, she was thankfully insulated by the fur, which grew back quickly each time. As did the other chunks of flesh the dragon took from her.

Taylor guessed that, despite the Undersiders fleeing, the girl who had given her the additional layers of flesh wasn't far away. She was probably still helping her fallen dog out of its well-cooked "armour", and the human-turned-bear appreciated that she was given free reign of the arena, because it made her uncaring of hitting allies or innocents.

The two brawlers went at it for quite a long time, allowing Oni Lee to free himself from the restraints the Undersiders had happened to put onto him before Lung had appeared. And then he returned to his master's side. But he didn't attack, his style and Lung's being quite opposite. Instead, he surveyed the surroundings, and prevented anyone from taking photos or videos of the fight – he knew his boss didn't like being shown, and especially not being shown up.

After a whole hour of fighting, Lung stepped back and considered the situation. Apparently, his power had a limit above which it wouldn't make him grow, when facing a single opponent that wasn't an Endbringer, and it didn't perceive Taylor's single self as threatening enough to grow further – perhaps he knew, unconsciously, that she would stop fighting as soon as he disengaged. Which she did because, despite the rage necessary to keep the beast active, she was cognizant enough to stay in control. Reluctantly, he nodded, and the bear nodded back.

"If I catch them around here again…" he growled, as he returned to his normal shape, taking the kimono that Oni Lee held for him. She nodded back, understanding the threat, before bowing to the two of them. With respect… but as equals in battle. Lung bristled but nodded curtly.

Taylor felt it when the armour ceased to function, after that, and guessed (again) that Hellhound had vacated the premises. As soon as it happened, her "normal" bear shape used its sharp claws so that she could dig herself out, leaving the biomass to return to the nothingness it came from.

She also noticed that the burns she had suffered at the beginning had disappeared, as a side-effect of her Change. She had already remarked, after her trigger, that the wounds she got in the Locker had disappeared when she took her alternate form. It was as if her power "saved" a perfectly healthy image of her when she changed shape. Or as if, while she was in one shape, it regenerated the other.

"I wonder if I can get the Undersiders to repeat the process. Or test it further." she mused to herself. But she shook her head soon afterwards, knowing that they were villains and she was… not on anybody's radar, normally. Unless this fight changed things. She'd have to see.

Meanwhile, she applied herself in school and sports, and continued to make friends – it's easy to do so when you can help anyone out of their everyday pickles, especially against bullies.

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Six Months Later

Neither Lung nor Oni Lee were the kind of persons to report their fight with her to the PRT – and Lee had managed to prevent media from appearing on social platforms. All mentions of it was deemed as rumours, especially as people had no answer to the recurrent question: "pics or it didn't happen".

The Undersiders weren't keen to report it either. And despite Tattletale's inclination to tattle to her boss, she had been prevented by something that had happened as soon as they got "home", when Rachel had cornered her… and had threatened her. It had been the first time that she had gone so far against an established teammate, and it had been quite clumsy, but Tattletale's Thinker power had filled the blanks and had made it quite clear what would happen if she did reveal anything about Bitch's new "friend".

It had also made her wary of helping her into finding said friend again, especially with so few clues leading to her – normally, she would have plenty of signs leading to another parahumans: powers tended to push their "owners" into using them, leaving hints everywhere. However, that fight had been the first time she had seen the massive bear, briefly at that, and she had no lead.

So, when Tattletale went to test another coffee shop and found herself facing the big girl behind the counter, she froze. At that time, she wasn't using her Thinker power, but she could still feel the potential for violence in her unnatural calm stance. And her big arms, too.

"Your order?" Taylor asked with an easy smile, as if nothing was amiss. As if the blonde facing her wasn't pale as a sheet all of a sudden. Given her attitude, she had recognized the real danger she represented, hence had been a witness to her alternate form. The list was short, and given her body type, she was probably the blonde from the Undersiders. Tattletale. Reportedly a Thinker. So she shook her head fractionally, knowing that a Thinker of her reputation could infer much from it. Such as "don't start anything".

Tattletale gulped, nodded, and asked for a tall and large black coffee. Taylor grinned, as "tall and large" was also a description for her own body. The sight of her widening smile made the blonde gulp the air again, before she could do the same with her coffee.

She didn't stay long, her coffee being "to go", but she got enough information to know when she could intercept Taylor as she was leaving. Late. And, apparently, she wasn't afraid of the various lowlife on her trip home – the same lowlife that had her wary, given how they looked at her.

"You've got some guts, I admit." she heard, after following Taylor into an alley. Belatedly, her power inferred that it wasn't where Taylor's home was, and it was a "trap". Not a deadly one, though.

"What do you mean?"

"I know my way around here. Do you, little Undersider?"

Tattletale looked around, but, sure, no one was present to listen. "You're one to talk, miss Student-Eater." She clamped her mouth shut and silently berated her power. Again. It had made that jump of logic, the previous year, when there was absolutely nothing left of the victims. Even when the fact was proved wrong, her power-motivated big mouth tried to agitate her opponent with it.

Despite the barb, Taylor only reacted fractionally, her anger only visible in the tensing of her muscles. And slightly larger frame. And slightly growing body hair. And nails. To someone with Tattletale's power, it was as if she was presented with a facsimile of Lung.

"They caused it. They sowed it. And they reaped it." Taylor's voice was deeper, too. "Are you going to follow that route? I thought you were a Thinker."

Indeed. "Congratulations, on leashing the beast."

Or not. Taylor grew a bit more, her anger more visible. And then she closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and returned to human form. "I am not leashed." she growled. "I'm just in control. Most of the time. But if you insist on displaying the fact that you know my secrets and are ready to divulge them to the world… then you're a threat. A real one. And, as one who knows what I'd do to such, do you really want to escalate further?"

Tattletale shook her head. "I'm just skin and bone anyways."

Taylor huffed. "I doubt you followed me here for suicidal reasons. What do you want?"

Tattletale took a thick envelope from her bag. "You made an impression on Rachel. The one the PRT calls Hellhound. You saved our hide, too. So, here, that's for you. And if you want more, we can provide you with other jobs." The pitch wasn't perfect, and the bait wasn't that shiny since Taylor was comfortably installed in her new life. She had a job already. And friends.

Still, a bit more money could help with the home, even if it came from villains. Taylor would have preferred heroes, but she knew that "proper" government-backed heroes… would send her to prison, no question asked. Especially since she had killed Shadow Stalker, one of them, and a minor.

Being out after dark wasn't a good situation to conduct negotiations, so they decided to reconvene later, did so, and hashed things out. It was decided that, yes, Taylor could participate, but only as long as the job wasn't villainous… unless the targets were villains themselves (and deserved it).

Rachel was relatively happy to include her in the group – meaning that, contrarily to what she often did, she didn't send her hounds towards the newcomer at first sight – she also knew what would happen and didn't want to hurt her puppies. She was also happy to learn about Taylor's preferences, especially when the latter agreed on a run targeting the dog-fighting ring Hookwolf had established.

It was during that run that the Undersiders could observe Taylor in action again. Contrarily to their flight from Lung, they were now active besides her, and they made a few startling discoveries about her power… and powers in general.

First was Tattletale, making inferences as usual, and exploring the events leading to her trigger: anger was prevalent, but there were also ideas about how to express that anger, either as her Changer ability, or as other powers that she could express in either form – although with her anger acting as fuel for her abilities, she had better success when using them as a bear.

Regent made an observation, then, that Taylor's shape and her other powers all pointed to a game. Even her name, when changed, that she revealed to them – because, when going as a team, she wasn't going to be called Taylor. She chose Beorn, of course. It was nothing that Taylor herself didn't know, but he wanted to know if she was able to do invoke even more destructive powers.

It was Grue who, in his own way of having wisdom beyond his years, pushed Regent back. In his words: "Having a localized earthquake is not a good idea. And if she doesn't have that power, you'll have a pissed off Beorn on your hands."

And then Rachel finished with an insightful question that launched her Thinker teammate into fits: "With a power like that, how comes we haven't seen you more often?"

"Yeah, did you hide in the woods?" Regent asked, his eyes twinkling. "Rub your back on trees? Does the bear sh-"

"That's enough." Grue growled, his hand over his younger (and smaller) teammate's whole face. Only the latter's power over nerves allowed him to free himself. And to breathe.

"Strangely enough, no." Taylor replied. "Since I got my powers, I haven't had the need for it. Apparently, the bear is a placid animal, when not angered, and I have "inherited" this. It does help that those most inclined to anger me… have disappeared."

Tattletale paled slightly, at that, remembering their previous chat. But she had also found something to inject. "You mean your power changed you?"

"Of course, she's a Changer." Regent interjected in a deadpan tone of voice. Since he was heading towards the game console, then, he was away from the group, and Grue couldn't shush him immediately.

"Of course, of course." Tattletale replied without looking. "But I'm more interested in the mental aspect. More and more, we have seen capes and their interaction, and I'm surer and surer that having powers generally pushes people towards violence. Every cape I have observed goes for violence first, and diplomacy second."

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Six Months Later

"…and that's why, after Coil shuffled his mortal coil, I was finally free to join the Wards. Under a different name, of course. I'm Insight." Tattletale said, her words transmitted to every listener thanks to her microphone. In front of her were a few people from Brockton Bay, some unhappy about the laws that allowed for Rebranding (because it put the "dead" name of capes out of their reach, while they'd have preferred the Undersider Thinker to pay for their thieving days).

The other Undersiders weren't here, for various reasons. Regent got killed when their group, with Taylor, found about Dinah's abduction (and the fact that Coil had used their bank heist to kidnap her) and saved her – Dinah was right besides Insight, and introduced as Oracle.

Due to his age, Grue wanted to wait a few weeks before rebranding, so as to avoid the Wards phase completely. With Taylor as his girlfriend, he found himself meeting her father. Explaining to the man why he became a thief led to his sister Aisha to be relocated to the Heberts' house for a while.

Hellhound, or Bitch, stayed with Taylor too – given their power synergy, she didn't want to stray too far. She still had her dogs, though, and there wasn't enough place in the house to lodge them all. With Danny's help, she bought an abandoned warehouse in which she could house the dogs, feed them… and train them.

Taylor bought a few hives and made honey. She ate it all.

Relaxing with the bees around her, and thinking of all the flowerbeds she had to maintain for each drop of honey, she realized that she couldn't have her fill with one little hive in the ruins that were the depopulated Docks. She consulted with her father, again, and he pushed the idea "upstairs". Since using her powers didn't cost anything, she was allowed to raze a few empty lots so that she could put a few trees and other greeneries. Meditating in the new park offered her power some outlets for the accumulated energy, now that no big threat remained to her well-being.

Communing with the nature allowed her to reflect about her powers, which continued to improve – apparently, her power's source wasn't content to take his inspiration from a single source, and she could now use her roar to invigorate others… or grant them a raging fit fit for a barbarian. It worked quite well, even on Rachel's dogs.

Regent having died, some people found that it was normal to expose his identity, even if they had some difficulties to find it. Still, there is always a hacker willing to sell the information, and others to buy, and the information came to the attention of his sister Cherie. Initially headed to join the Slaughterhouse Nine (in order to take them over so that they would rampage through her father's domain), she changed her heading and went to Brockton Bay. Despite not really liking each other, she thought that her (and her siblings) ought to close ranks when threatened. It means that she sought the toughest cape against whom Regent had fought.

Taylor was, by then, relaxing in "her" park – her presence was known, and delinquents avoided the area, allowing the families to visit safely. That safety was threatened when Lung stumbled into the park, already angry and ramped up… but with no enemy in sight. She was quite angry, already, when seeing what she imagined as a somewhat honourable warlord (if you forget about the less humane ways his gang made money, before she started to attack those) choose to invade that haven of tranquillity. Or so she thought.

Right as she stood up to fight, she found her anger spiking like never before. She had had moments of rage, but never so quick to come without external intervention. It meant external intervention… or enemy action. Thankfully, she had already faced with Gallant, when one of his patrols intersected the place she was attacking (one of those houses of carnal pleasures for the ABB), and had weathered the beams of emotion he had started to use on her, thinking that she was a villain. Insight, at the Console, had disabused him of that notion.

That means that Taylor recognized the expression of another power, which let her own take the reins of her emotions. Yes, she was angry, and she was going to use that anger. But she was also in control of herself.

Without Rachel right there, she wasn't going to escalate with the same intensity, against Lung, but if what she suspected was true, he was "just" acting out the foreign feeling. She merely had to redirect the action towards the Bay, where the water would allow him to cool down for a bit. And her to Change a few times (during the trip, and one last time upon arrival) so as to heal the wounds he was inflicting.

And while Lung took a midnight dip, Taylor walked back, and phoned Insight. With Oracle, they determined the better place for her to go in order to find the emotion manipulator. She found Cherie, who recognized the knot of anger growing, tried to smother it… only for the rage to take over.

For some reason, transforming while holding a phone at her ear allowed Taylor to keep that connection while in her Changer form. That's what allowed Insight to calm her before she killed her current foe – Cherie having recognized who was going to win, she was suddenly quite submissive (a clear indication about her own home life). And the PRT took her.

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Six Months Later

Taylor found herself fighting Leviathan. Rachel was there too, following the fight at a distance, on one of her dogs, so as to make Taylor's body more impressive still. At the same time, the Changer made use of her powers to absorb the energy from the natural disasters the Endbringer was raining on their poor town (tsunamis, mainly) and redirect it into massive bolts of lightning. That is, when she wasn't slicing the Endbringer with her claws.

She damaged the beast, enough to make it flee. She bought time for others to survive. She was the reason so few were dead. But she wasn't invulnerable. And neither was Rachel. As Leviathan fled, jumping forward and back to create several water echoes, Taylor found herself impaled by several water tails as hard as the real thing… and two of them found her body, even hidden in the bear outgrowth as it was. As for Rachel, who hurried to open her fallen form (by using her power) so as to pull her normal shape out… she couldn't fly out when the ground, quite damaged already, swallowed the massive bear and her.

When her father stumbles out of the shelter, he's brought to the site where she died and informed of the situation. It's enough to push him to jump into the new lake, except for the flying hero accompanying him: Legend himself had kind words for the bereaved father, trying to calm him down.

What calmed him, ultimately, was when the bear his daughter had become floated out of the lake. People were quite happy to see her back, until they realized that the bear wasn't changing back into a girl. It wasn't speaking. And it only followed Daniel Hebert home. Insight came to the realization that Taylor hadn't miraculously resurrected, but Daniel had become a parahuman himself, with the power to manifest a projection of his daughter.

Some would say that it was a coping mechanism, flawed or not. As coping mechanisms go, Danny follows another too, that is "find others with the same circumstances". That often happens when people seek comfort, and sometimes retribution, given that a large enough group can start one of those "class actions".

In this case, there aren't many "fathers who lost their daughter only to gain the parahuman power to manifest a projection of her". Only one joins him, several weeks after he made his interest group known to the internet – thus, the world. At that time, Daniel was whistling a song while sitting on the dock of the bay, and the bear that was Taylor without being her was nodding its ursine head in rhythm.

The newcomer sits down, and shakes his hand. And his own projection shakes hand with the bear, too. Danny is quite surprised at seeing the zebra-striped woman, but then understands.

"You left them." he says. It wasn't really a question.

The other man nods, tries to speak through a thoroughly unused voice box, and finally utters "William."

"Danny."

Of course, "them" being the Slaughterhouse Nine, Jack Slash isn't keen on losing the Siberian, and he decides to follow his erstwhile companion in order to teach him a lesson he would forget soon after (because he would be dead).

It doesn't really works that way. In addition, the presence of the Nine granted the Siberian much more mobility: without them, and especially Bonesaw's improved mechanical spiders (which had a "repeater" part made from the brains of the little surgeon's victims), she could only walk around the block her Master was in. Same with Taylor.

With Bonesaw nearby, the two projections start decimating the Nine. Jack is used to influence William Manton through the expression of his power, but not Daniel. And Taylor isn't a parahuman susceptible to manipulation through his power. Jack dies, sliced in several parts. Same as Hatchet Face, who realizes a bit late that the two aren't parahumans since he can't remove their power. Same as the others. Even Crawler, although the massive beast needs a thorough walkthrough by the two projections before he collapses in a mass of acids.

In the end, only Bonesaw remains. She threatens to unleash plagues to decimate the whole country if she's harmed in any way, and the Siberian reflects Manton's view of the little girl (as an adopted daughter, despite the circumstances) by simply hugging her.

Right then, though, several tentacles reach out from outside and latch upon each of them. And pull back. Those around Taylor are sliced with her claws; those around the Siberian are ignored when the striped woman simply walks out, ripping them; those around Bonesaw are pulling the little girl towards a creature unheard of: a chimera made of several creatures, upon which the torso of a distraught woman can be seen, crying and wailing. Those tentacles came from the mouth of the individual beasts composing the creature, and the little girl is pulled therein.

"No! Noelle! What are you doing? She was to heal you! That's why we followed them!" The questions come from a man with a scene magician's costume (with a top hat, a cape… and a mask).

"I'm too hungry! I can't help-"

If the sentence is unfinished, it's because, like they did with Crawler, both Taylor and the Siberian zeroed upon the creature, their passage ripping the matter comprising the beast. Initially happy to swallow two willing sacrifices, it's quite surprised when they are not edible (not being parahuman themselves, again) and reacts too late to avoid complete annihilation. When it is thrown into the lake of acid that is all that remains from Crawler, the two clones it spits can't do anything.

Trickster (the one with the top hat) wails at his girlfriend's demise, and tries to attack the projections… without any success. His friends try to make him see reason, but he attacks them too. He ends up restrained by Taylor (in one of her bear hugs), and put to sleep by one of the Bonesaw clones.

"He was loud." she complains.

"It's not as if our ears aren't brand new, and sensitive." adds the second.

"Sorry about that. Noelle is… was able to create evil clones of other capes." one of the newcomers says, watching the girls warily. "I'm Marissa… or Sundancer, if you want. We're… were… the Travellers. We only sought healing for Noelle, so as to detach her from her powers, because they were out of control. It's tragic that she had to die, but I can only hope that she's finally at peace."

"I can't say." says the first Bonesaw clone. "I haven't studied the soul, or the afterlife. I can perhaps find proofs in the brain of people, when they die, and-"

"Or not." adds the second clone, warily eyeing the Siberian, who now has a hand on clone #1's mouth, the index finger of her other hand making a "no" sign. "So… you keeping him?" she continues, looking at Marissa (and the others) and pointing with her thumb at Trickster, still held aloft.

"I don't know." is Marissa's response. "The further down Noelle was, the further in villainy he was heading. I can only hope that he doesn't become mad, now that she's dead." A pause, while she looks at her companions. After two slow nods, she turns back. "But we'll take him, yes. He's our responsibility."

The Siberian nods at this, and Taylor gives the unconscious body to Genesis – the Travellers' own projection.

"What about us?" clone #2 asks to the Siberian when the group walks away. "She said "evil clones", but I don't feel evil. Do you?" she asks her "sister", freed from her improvised gag.

"I believe that, in the "evil twin" category, our original sister was the evil one. Meaning that… we're good?"

"We're good."

Siberian nods, before frowning, looking down at herself. The black stripes are becoming lighter. At the same time, her "body" is changing, oscillating between several shapes, and sizes. After a time where the three onlookers ask themselves if they should flee or not, the Siberian finally stabilizes… into two projections. One looks like a young girl, like Bonesaw; the other is older, with enough similarities that she could be the girl's mother. And would be, if they weren't both projections. Projections that take a look at each other before popping out.

The bear-that-is-Taylor looks wistful for a second before making signs to the two girls that they can follow her if they want. She hurries towards her destination, though, making the girls run to keep up. They are followed by the original Bonesaw's mechanical spiders, too – the things are quite confused, as shown by their hesitance at choosing a clone to follow, but they do follow the group, providing Taylor the ability to stay "corporeal" for the whole trip.

Danny is watching as William Manton seems reunited with his family, and looks intently at Taylor's form when she arrives. The power feels the need to change, and does so according to what was done just before, granting the man his wish too. And while the four are "just" projections, they have thoughts (even though they are managed by a parahuman power) and can develop memories depending on the situation.

And with two Bonesaw clones, there is no doubt that an arrangement could be made to re-create the people themselves.

In fact, they will do so, but it will be much later. After they all realize that their powers had changed. While both Bonesaw clones can alter people and bodies, one of them is better at cosmetic surgery while the other's specialty is brain surgery. And, of course, they don't call themselves Bonesaw anymore. Nor Riley, their original clone's real name. Nor Alice, because she was often clothed as Alice in Wonderland.

The closeness between the two families extends to the power expression too. Manton's wife is the part of the Siberian that grants invulnerability to others, while his daughter is the one able to ignore physics when moving and attacking. And the two of them can now appear as normal persons. Same with Taylor and her mother. And the four of them can transform into various animals, too.

Of course, the "real people" version devised by the Bonesaws can't do all this. They can't be linked to parahuman powers, too. In fact, creating those people is the last act the Bonesaw will do as parahumans… because they won't be afterwards.

It's all because of Scion.

Of course, those people who dismantled the Slaughterhouse sparked an interest in Cauldron, who spied on them. When they are deemed mature enough, they're brought up to speed on what Scion and the parahuman powers actually are. And when others will fight the avatar, distracting it and making him pull power from the dimensional interdiction preventing this, the Doormaker will create a portal so that the four projections available to the extended Siberian family will invade the invader's home planet.

Repeating what was done to Crawler, while leaving behind each step a capsule of alien-flesh-eating organisms (courtesy of the Bonesaws), the four of them will end up destroying enough of the Entity's consciousness to definitely put an end to the threat.

But…

…it will have an impact on parahumans everywhere. Without the main provider of powers, there will be no new trigger. With several of the power sources damaged, the corresponding powers will cease to function, some in a disastrous manner (especially those flying at that time). And even if most powers will still be there, those with a diminished or destroyed source will see their capabilities greatly deteriorated.

Cauldron, nearly being the omniscient and omnipotent entity they portray themselves to be, will be able to create a substance able to sustain powers for a while, but it will be highly controlled (and expensive). Only government-mandated heroes will be able to get it for "free", and then only when dispatched on missions.

All this means that William and Daniel will have to send their power projections in what can be deemed a suicide run. Against their own power. That's why Cauldron gave the Bonesaws the hidden mission to create duplicates: to hide from the two men (and their power) the depth of their involvement. And after the deed, they will find two nearby houses and live their own happily ever after.

Meanwhile, Cauldron will continue to sell powers. Why should they stop? Their self-imposed mandate will be filled without Scion destroying them or the rest of humanity, freeing them to continue their activities. Besides, humans are biological machines with great inertia, and when something works, we continue using it.

They will have even more success, too, given that they will have no concurrent (in the "trigger" category) and also another Entity to harvest – the quartet will never be able to make a being the size of a planet disappear, no: they will be teleported to the place where Oracle will predict Scion's "brain" is. Much like Eden, it will destroy the Entity's ability to retaliate, while leaving most of its corpse free.

Even with regular injection of powers from both Entities, Eidolon will not get better, and his power will eventually stop being enough to resist attacks from the Endbringers. It's Behemoth who'll kills him, only to stop right as the triumvirate member crumble to ash due to his killing attack. And no Endbringer will show up afterwards. It will leave Thinkers no choice but to infer that he was the one to control them, in a misguided attempt to have "worthy opponents".

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

To be continued… if we can bear it

Author's Notes: LOTR struck again. Others followed.

Self-omake: I initially started this with a much darker twist. Here goes…

Enraged

The first thing that Greg noticed as wrong was the roar.

The sound, interpreted first by the reptilian cortex of the Winslow students not stoned yet (and even them), was correctly translated into "scream of rage from a large predator". It had an almost physical effect, making walls and people tremble – alright, nothing "almost" about that.

Wait. Let's rewind a bit. The first thing Greg noticed as wrong, that day, was the fact that he had seen Taylor being pushed in her locker, this morning, and hadn't acted to prevent it – Emma knew Taylor didn't have access to social networks and had warned everybody not to interfere with her "little prank".

Thinking of Emma and Taylor made him think back to when he met them, during their freshmen orientation. Taylor was better, then – nice to everyone, bubbly, willing to learn. However, eighteen months of constant bullying had transformed the eager girl into a downtrodden mass of limbs and hair, often on the floor while the girls jeered.

Not having acted all these months, it almost made him feel guilty.

Not having acted this morning, it almost made him feel disgusted with himself.

Not reacting like the others when a rampaging bear made irruption into the classroom made him… mostly dead, his legs broken under his broken desk, upon which a half-ton bear had jumped. Most of the students able to flee did so, running every which way and confusing the beast. Said beast, instead of pursuing immediately, shook its massive head slowly, before its eyes landed on him. His last word, heard by some among the fleeing crowd, was uttered in awe when he took in the savage ursine creature. "Beorn…"

At that point, the animal had resolved to finish its job in the classroom, and jumped from the desk towards the nearest group of catatonic humans, paralyzed by fear. With them was Mr Gladly, the teacher. Long and hard claws made short work of the equipment designed to protect his life – clothes, skin, and bones. And the same went for the other students. As for Greg, his lower body was crushed and he was dead already when the bear came back.

This took a while, because the bear ate its prey – waste not, want not, you could say. Or, if you peek at the beast, you could notice that it was emaciated. As if it came out of a long hibernation. Or a short one, but preceded by a long period of being denied one's normal fare – in a word, it was starving, and any food was better than nothing.

The police came, but only to establish a cordon around the place, preventing curious people from getting closer. And sending the students home. And evacuating towards hospitals those wounded by the disorderly flight.

No, the police wasn't called to intervene because it was quickly established as being a parahuman incident. Or the worst case of grizzly visiting the local school, without being seen before and after.

The first on scene was Velocity. He ran through the school a mere minute after the last death, his costume-mounted fast-working camera getting everything, and then he exited to share with the others the grim news.

"So many dead." he breathed, almost heaving. "The smell, it's atrocious."

Armsmasted nodded, steeling himself for what seemed to be another difficult fight. At the same time that he was visualizing the video feed, in fast-forward but still slower than Velocity took it, Dragon was parsing everything on her side. With her prodigious mind (and not programs, as she sometimes said), she quickly established something important, told Armsmaster, who relayed it to the others there – Miss Militia and Assault (who, for once, wasn't his usual joking self).

"Students reported a bear of unusual size, but there's nothing with that description, in here."

"A Changer, then?" asked Miss Militia. "I heard some students mentioning a roar. Was it Animos?"

Dragon having already checked the whereabouts of this particular cape, Armsmaster could reply "No. The Teeth are all accounted for, and they are still in Boston." It was accompanied with a very slight sigh of relief as, despite the crime they were facing, they'd rather not have the infamous gang back in town. Especially their leader.

Another thing was important. "Whoever they are, they got Shadow Stalker." The video feed was paused on what was unmistakably Sophia's face, although it was stuck in an expression they had never seen on her. Fear. Terror. The kind of feeling that made people unable to react, in general, and that didn't mesh with her training… or her general disposition. That led him to a conclusion that, while wrong, was a viable option: "Be on your guard for a possible Master power, too."

"A Master/Brute?" Assault asked. "That's… rare."

The Brute went without saying: below the neck, nothing identifiable remained of Sophia Hess' body. Two other bodies were nearby, too damaged to be recognizable. "Those two… they were moved to be closer to her." Armsmaster said, relaying Dragon's observations. "Perhaps they were killed in front of her, and that provoked the terror. If that's the case, I still wonder why she didn't use her power to flee."

"Perhaps it isn't a Master power." Assault noted. "Perhaps it's a Trump, negating other powers. Are you sure it isn't Animos? He fits the profile to a T."

"It could be someone else." Miss Militia said, eyeing the whole school and taking in the sordid state of affairs. "A new trigger."

"If that's true, it will be a nightmare." Assault said. "Despite the existing laws about triggers, there are so many casualties that any jury will send the new cape to the Birdcage, no question asked. Or a Kill Order, if they are presented with enough gruesome images."

Bizarrely, despite the utmost pressure applied on everyone, the guilty party wasn't found. With the actual bloodbath in the corridors, the investigators didn't count as interesting the sorry state of the student lockers or the fact that one of them had contained used feminine products for quite a long time.

In fact, without another culprit, the whole even ended up chalked to Animos even though he hadn't been here. Despite Dragon knowing he had been in Boston the whole time, he hadn't shown up in Teeth shenanigans, and media pundits took shortcuts they ought not to and showed their own detective work to the masses.

It led to public outcry against the Teeth, itself followed by action from the government, and they were soon in the heat of things, as it were. Needless to say, it was a bloodbath… and it encompassed two towns because they returned briefly to Brockton Bay: Animos having been quite angry, himself, at being blamed for everything wrong having ever happened at Winslow, he had owned it and gone over the fence. Like the other animal, once he faced Blackwell, and killed and ate her. Of course, he resisted assault (and Assault) after this, to the point of killing him too. That got him a Kill Order in short order, and Battery was quite happy, in a way, to be the one to execute both – the Kill Order, and Animos himself.

Nobody apologized.

Author's Notes: …and that's that.